#oc weft

Astarion sets up the room. The bed, large enough for three at least, is centered on the floor, unobstructed on all sides. He makes sure the sound-dampening spell is in place. Then, he moves a chair to a corner of the room, and he waits.

He's watched them before, of course, on their evening jaunts to the woods. At first, he just wanted to make sure Halsin was treating Weft right. Once they told him they'd known he was there the whole time…well. He was invited to observe or not as he pleased, from then on. But now that he's free, it's very annoying to trek all the way out there just to watch. He suggested they fuck on a bed, for once, like civilized people, and they decided to indulge him.

The door opens, and excitement rises in his stomach.

"Thank you again for the robe," Halsin says as he and Weft enter. "Although, you wear yours better than I wear mine."

"Are you kidding?" Weft says with a laugh, leaning against him and steering him backwards toward the bed. "Big tough Halsin in a nice bolt of silk? That's exactly what I like to see." They push gently on his chest and he sits on the bed.

Neither of them look at Astarion, but for a moment he feels a tiny nudge in his mind from Weft. It's nothing more than an acknowledgement, a tiny lovesick greeting from his dearest. It makes his chest flutter.

Weft puts their leg up on the bed beside Halsin, letting their robe slip down to reveal they're wearing nothing beneath but their underwear. Halsin leans forward, drawing his face up their inner thigh. "You're only half-hard, my love."

"You'd better do something about that, then. Mn–"

Halsin's mouth is on them now, his tongue sneaking around the edge of their underwear. He pulls one of their balls into his mouth, and Weft threads their fingers into his hair. Halsin unties the side and back of Weft's underwear and leaves them dangling off their leg. "That's more like it," he murmurs, palming their erection and kissing their stomach.

Weft pushes Halsin's shoulders and his back lands on the bed. They drop their robe and underwear to the floor, then lean over Halsin to pull his off, too. They brush their breasts over his cock as they move, eliciting a noise from Halsin. Astarion smiles to himself.

"My mouth has more to offer you," Halsin says, and Weft giggles. They crawl over him and settle with their ass over his face. He drags his hands over their cheeks and pulls them down, starts licking their hole. Weft lets out a sigh and relaxes over him, letting their head fall back. They grind into his face, and Astarion notices their tail casually moving toward Halsin's cock. It wraps loosely around the base, not flexible enough for more than a gentle drape. Halsin's cock twitches and Astarion shifts in his seat, captivated by it.

Halsin parts his mouth from Weft. "Would you face the other way?" he asks them.

"Sure," Weft says, and does as he suggests. When Halsin's eyes are briefly visible to Astarion, he sees Halsin looking at him, and his pulse quickens. When Weft settles back down on him, he reaches for their cock and strokes it while he eats them out.

Weft closes their eyes and leans into the pleasure for a moment, their body bending and twitching in pleasure. Then they almost seem to snap out of something and lean forward, reaching between Halsin's legs. They spit onto their fingers and Halsin moans when two of them enter him.

"Shall I fuck you, my love?"

"Yes," Halsin breathes, and Weft climbs off of him. They pat his shoulder and he flips on his front, and turns around on the bed so his ass is to them. Astarion wonders idly if this positioning is also for his sake, but either angle would have been fine: Weft and Halsin's faces, Weft's ass fucking Halsin's; both have their appeal.

Weft enters him and Halsin cries out. They fuck him, languidly, taking their time. Halsin's voice becomes increasingly pained, and he's almost whining when he says "Weft, please."

"Please what?" Weft asks, smooth as silk. Astarion clutches at the front of his shirt.

"Please fuck me harder. Please, deeper. Ah–!"

Weft picks up speed, gradually increasing the pace of their thrusts, rolling their hips to find his walls. Halsin twists his hands in the sheets, moaning his gratitude. His cries get louder, higher pitched, and when he comes, Weft and Astarion both gasp. Weft only needs a few more thrusts before they come, too, leaning down against his back.

"You marvel," they say to Halsin, who reaches behind and pats their ass. Weft pulls out of him and collapses on the bed beside him. They tilt their head to look at Astarion, and he's already making his way to them.

His mouth is on theirs before they can even speak, his tongue digging into them. They chuckle against him and break the kiss. "Liked the show did you?"

"Taunt me later," he snaps, removing his breeches. "I need to fuck you right now."

"Fuck. Yes." They roll around on the bed so their ass is facing him and he wastes no time. When their legs are around him, he finds their hole and presses his cock into it. They both moan, and they rock against each other, Weft's arm over his shoulder. Their eyes meet, and with one hard thrust he finishes inside them.

Weft wraps their arms around him and pulls him onto the bed on top of them, then rolls him onto his side. They kiss again, softly. Astarion looks over his shoulder at Halsin, watching them. 

"Oh fine, well done to you, too." He gives Halsin a quick pat, which makes Halsin laugh.

"How will you let me know if you need to stop?"

"I can summon ice, somewhere you'll feel it."

"You can do that without being able to speak?"

"I can."

"Show me."

He leans down toward Weft seated on the edge of the bed and places a hand on their shoulder.

"Whoa! Yeah, alright, I'll feel that for sure." They search his face. "Are you ready for the gag?"

"I am."

"Wait," Astarion says, touching Halsin's back lightly. Halsin turns to look at him, a slight smile on his face. "Come here." Halsin leans down, and Astarion gives him a soft kiss on the lips. He can feel the excitement in Halsin's body, which satisfies him. Astarion pulls back. "Alright, go on."

Halsin leans down to Weft on the bed again, and they put the padded leather strap between his teeth. They buckle it in place behind his head. "Not too tight?" Halsin nods. "Show me again how you would tell me to stop. Whew! Okay, good. Now come here."

Halsin complies, kneeling on the bed with Weft between his knees. Astarion sees the look on their face: love, pride, and incredible desire. "You are so beautiful," Weft says to him, their voice light. Halsin growls at them through the gag and falls onto them, knocking them down onto the bed, digging his nose into their neck. Weft laughs and gently guides him off their body. They pick up the bottle of Halsin's lavender-scented oil and dribble a good amount onto their cock. Halsin watches them intently, and when they put a hand on his hip, he readily drops his hips, and their cock enters him.

He sighs and Weft's breath comes out sharp. They thrust up into him, slowly, picking up speed into a steady rhythm. "Very good, Halsin," they breathe. "Lean toward me now." He does as they ask, bending slowly. He takes one of Weft's hands and they guide him down, supporting his weight. Weft grunts, getting their feet onto the side of the bed to keep inside Halsin's ass. Astarion steps forward and grabs a pillow.

"Here, darling," he says as he slides it under their ass.

"Ah, thanks, my, hah–" Halsin takes advantage of the new angle and presses himself down onto Weft, taking them in deeper. Rather than backing away, Astarion reaches down and presses his thumb to Weft's shaft, letting it slide into Halsin on the next thrust. He grins when they both react.

"Astarion," Weft says, and he looks at them. "He's ready."

Astarion takes a steadying breath. "Halsin. Look at me." Halsin turns his head to look at him over his shoulder. Astarion studies his face, looking for a hint of trepidation, and finds none. On the contrary, he finds a burning hunger, and a silent plea for Astarion to join. He steps forward and slips a finger under where the strap of the gag is pressing into Halsin's cheek. Halsin's eyes drop closed and he leans into the touch. Astarion takes his hand back and holds it out to Weft.

"Oil, if you please."

Weft hands him the bottle and he drizzles from it onto his hand. He strokes his fingers across Weft's cock and the edge of Halsin's hole, making them both moan. Astarion puts more oil on his own cock and presses it flush with what of Weft's is exposed. He leans around Halsin's bulk to catch Weft's eye. They look away from Halsin to him, and they nod. They pull out until only their head remains in Halsin, then together Weft and Astarion enter him again.

Halsin lets out a muffled cry and his body starts to droop. Weft takes his hands in theirs and holds him up. "You're doing so good, Halsin, you're doing so good." Astarion places a hand on Halsin's back, stroking his skin lightly. He looks at Weft, and they're searching Halsin's face. "If it's too much–"

Halsin tries to say something, but it's muffled by the gag. Instead he shakes his head, emphatically. "You're good?" In response, he leans back, taking their cocks in deeper. Astarion gasps and catches him by the hips, holding him tightly.

"That's a clear yes," he says. "In tandem, darling?"

"Mhm." He and Weft thrust together. Halsin cries out again, moans into his gag. Weft keeps murmuring assurance at him, their voice hitching. Astarion concentrates on the rhythm, trying not to be overcome with pleasure. Weft's cock is so close to his, held so tight by Halsin's hole. He gasps when he feels Weft's tail wrap around his leg, and looks up at them. Instead he finds Halsin turned to him, Weft's hand on his chin.

"Fuck," he grunts, and he just can't help but pump harder, losing pace with Weft. He grips Halsin's hips hard and buries himself until he comes. Weft moans.

"I can feel your fucking come," they cry, and Halsin grunts. He rolls his hips, drawing sounds out of Weft, louder and louder, until they come, too.

"Halsin will be here in a few days."

"Oh, marvelous. I've been thinking about the big side of beef lately."

"Have you?"

"Mm. I...well."

"What is it?"

Astarion marks his place in his book and sets it aside. He looks at Weft, certain a blush would rise in his cheeks if it could. "I've been thinking I'd like to receive from him."

It takes Weft a moment to process the statement. "Oh!"

"It doesn't have to be a big deal."

"Well, no, not necessarily. But it's alright if it is a big deal."

He pouts at them. "I'm afraid it is a big deal."

"Oh, sweetheart!" They wrap their arms around him, and he's enveloped in their smell, the feel of their skin. "What brought this on?"

"What brought on a desire to get fucked within an inch of my life by our enormous paramour?" He gives them a faux-thoughtful look and they laugh. "The desire has always been there. I suppose that, after the last time we saw him, I greater appreciated how much...trust he has in us."

"Gods! That was something, wasn't it?"

"So I've been ruminating. I'd like him to understand his trust is not misplaced."

"You must really trust him, now, too."

Astarion sighs. "Apparently so."

"If you're only doing it as a gesture..."

"No no, I do want to. I am concerned I may...change my mind once it starts."

"I'll be right there, my love. Neither of us wants you to do something you don't want to."

He smiles at them and draws a thumb across their cheekbone, no words for his appreciation and affection.

"It's never too late to change your mind."

"I know," he says with exasperation. The sincerity is becoming a little much. "Now get me warmed up for the old man, why don't you?"

--------

"Halsin. I'd like you to take me."

Halsin gives him a surprised smile. "You would?"

Weft and Astarion are leaning against their headboard, he in their arms. Halsin is kneeling at the opposite end, ready to devour or be devoured as they request. This specific request does seem to have thrown him, something Astarion is always pleased to do. He smiles up at him.

"Do you think you can do that for me, Halsin?" he purrs. He sees Halsin's eyes flick up to Weft's, and an actual blush rises in his cheeks.

"Was this your idea, my heart?"

"Gods no, this was all him."

Astarion studies Halsin. "Am I sensing, perhaps, that this is an act of debauchery you have been eager for, Halsin?" He slides out of Weft's arms and kneels in front of him. "Something the two of you have discussed without me?"

"I was advised that, if I wished for it, it would be best to await your suggestion."

Astarion turns to look at Weft, who takes a mock bow. "How sweet of them," he says, and turns back to Halsin. He's really not sure how to proceed, now that they're here. He is still nervous. He is still afraid his old habits will kick in and he'll let anything happen. But...gods. He wants it. He takes Halsin's hand, interlacing their fingers, and he can feel Halsin's blood pounding.

"I may tell you to stop."

"Then I will stop."

"Very well. From behind, if you please."

"As you wish."

Halsin wraps his arm around Astarion's waist and kisses him, and Astarion melts into his embrace. Halsin's hand travels down his back, fingers thread between his cheeks. When Halsin reaches his hole, Astarion shivers in delight and anticipation.

"Get that oil of yours," he breathes.

"Weft–?" Halsin says.

"On it." Weft climbs off the bed and returns in a flash. They hand the bottle to Halsin, and he gently presses on Astarion's shoulders to turn him around.

Astarion stretches out on the bed, spreading for Halsin. His face lands on Weft's thigh where they're kneeling in front of him, and he looks up at them. They're watching him so, so closely.

"I'm here," he murmurs at them, "I swear."

"I'm with you," they reply, placing their hand on his cheek.

"Astarion," Halsin says, and they both turn to him. His hand has two oiled fingers hovering near Astarion's ass. "I don't wish to surprise you."

"Mm, I'm open to good surprises." He smiles at Halsin and shakes his ass.

Halsin chuckles. "You've already given me one." He draws a circle around Astarion's hole, making him shiver, then drives both fingers in at once.

Astarion hums in pleasure and looks back to Weft. Though their cheeks are high in color, he senses trepidation in them. He opens his mouth against their thigh, dragging his fangs lightly across their skin. Why does he always want something in his mouth when there's something in his ass?

"Don't be jealous, my darling," he says, cheek pressed to their skin.

"Oh? And which of you am I meant to be jealous of?"

"Halsin, obviously." This makes them laugh, and he's relieved.

"Hm, perhaps I'm enjoying you being someone else's problem for once."

"I'm sure I'll trouble you before the night is through. Oh, mm." He looks back at Halsin. "You're sure that's still just your fingers?"

"Believe me, Astarion, you will know when I switch."

"Mhm? Show me."

Halsin gives him a solid look, unwavering and searching. It makes his chest swell. He shifts his arms, wrapping them around Weft's legs, and nods at Halsin.

Astarion releases a shaky moan as Halsin's cock enters him. Oh, he can tell the difference alright. He's being stretched to his limit, and it's everything he wanted. He braces himself against Weft's thigh, his cheek digging into them with each thrust from Halsin. Their fingers are in his hair, and they're cooing gentle praise at him. And he agrees. He's doing so good.

A mad pleasure pulses through him, and he's grateful there's no need to express it because he could not find the words. He finds that he's drawing his tongue up the inside of Weft's thigh, and they're shivering under him.

"Weft," he says, and his voice comes out thick like honey. He looks up into their eyes. They search him for distress and he prays they don't imagine any.

"All good?" they ask.

"Yes. Weft, I–don't you dare!" He turns his head to look at Halsin over his shoulder. "Don't you dare stop." When Halsin picks up speed again, he looks back to Weft.

"My love. I want you in my mouth."

"You aren't serious."

"Weft I need you in my mouth. Mnm!" Halsin pumped deep into him at that, and it thrills him. "Now."

He sees them look to Halsin, some communication passing between them. He eyes their erection, twitching so near his face. Weft presses a thumb below his eye and he looks back to them. He hopes he looks as pretty as he thinks he does, enough they'll give him what he's craving.

"How will you tell me if you need to stop?"

He gives his usual answer. "Tap your leg three times."

"Good. Will you open for me?"

He lets his jaw drop, and when their cock hits his tongue, he moans. He lets Halsin's thrusts do the work, pushing and pulling him off of Weft. Their fingers are in his hair again, firm but not pulling. Weft's breathing gets ragged, and a satisfaction passes through him.

He feels full to the brim. His body, of course, but something indefinable, too. Weft's hitched breaths, Halsin's throaty grunts, they make his head spin with joy, and he somehow aches for them, even now, with both of them inside him.

"Halsin," Weft says, and Astarion wishes he could see him. "Keep going. Don't come yet."

"Yes," Halsin says, effort in his voice.

"Mm." Astarion is looking up at Weft, trying to communicate but unwilling to let go of their cock. They look at him.

"What is it, my perfect man?" He rolls his eyes back toward Halsin. "Are you saying it's alright if he comes?" Astarion nods gently. He pulls partway off Weft's cock and then plunges back down. They shiver and stroke his hair. "Do you want Halsin to fuck you until he comes?" He nods again.

They look at Halsin. "You heard him, Halsin. Unleash yourself."

"Yes," Halsin repeats, and his grip on Astarion's hips gets tighter. Astarion moans around Weft's cock as Halsin plunges into him, faster and deeper than before, his stomach and thighs pressing against Astarion's ass. He drinks in the feeling of it, and the feeling of Halsin's come spilling inside him. Halsin falls against him and pulls out, making Astarion shudder. He can feel something dripping down his balls and he relishes it.

Weft gently pulls out of him, too, and guides him to lie on the bed beside them. "You don't want me to finish you?" he asks and they shake their head.

"I want to kiss you." They pull his face to theirs and do just that. Halsin tucks in behind him, throwing an arm over his stomach. He rests his face against Astarion's shoulder and breathes deeply.

Astarion moves his hips, pressing his erection to Weft's, and they respond in kind. Their kisses and movements are languid, as though they are in no hurry. This moment could last forever. Halsin's hand finds the tips of their cocks and they gasp into each other's mouths.

"Is my hand unwelcome?"

"No," Weft says, and Astarion's mouth moves to their neck. "Very welcome."

Astarion draws a thumb down the front of Halsin's throat, making Halsin shiver. He licks his lips, not contemplating what he usually does with someone's neck in his hands, but something else enticing. He catches Halsin's eye and reads the fear and the desire there, and he could almost laugh with how giddy it makes him.

It was Halsin's suggestion, obviously. Astarion is always just a little too close to wanting blood on his hands for some of his desires to be spoken aloud. When Halsin had asked, almost sheepish, his voice low, Astarion had looked to Weft before speaking. He needs them to corral him, sometimes, as does Halsin. They'd taken time to consider it, then agreed.

Weft stuffs a pillow under Halsin's ass and gets between his legs. They rub their hands on his belly and he smiles at them. They're nervous, Astarion can tell. He feels a little bad about them having so much responsibility but, well. They get off on that, too. He places a hand on one of theirs, and Halsin puts his on top. Weft sighs.

"You're both insane. I love you."

"We don't have to do this, darling."

"No, I mean…I didn't say that."

"That's what I thought." He kisses them, then leans down and presses his chest to Halsin's, kissing him, too. He draws a circle with his finger on Halsin's throat. "How will you tell me to stop?" Halsin's hand finds his thigh and he feels a shock of heat. "Very good," he purrs. "Would you like us to start?"

"Yes," Halsin breathes. "Ah–"

Weft enters Halsin, and Astarion drinks in his pleasure. He watches Halsin's eyelids fall closed, the way his eyebrows turn up on the inside. Halsin looks at him, color rising in his cheeks.

"Are you just going to…watch me get fucked…or is there something else you intend to do?"

Astarion smiles at him, sure to bare his fangs. "As you wish."

He traps Halsin's throat in his hand, pressing until his breath comes out in tortured gasps. It's music to his ears, and he leans into him harder.

Astarion recalls the feeling of other throats he has caught, crushed, lives he has ended just like this. Halsin is looking at him like he's having memories of his own, times he almost breathed his last. He wonders what Halsin sees in his face now, while he's waltzing with bloodlust. Halsin squirms under him and nods. He's asking for more. Astarion tightens his grip, and leans his mouth down to Halsin's ear.

"Do not fret, my dear. I will take you to the brink and bring you right back." Astarion counts the beats in Halsin's arteries, then releases him.

Halsin takes a gasping breath in and pulls Astarion to him. "Very good," Astarion murmurs, stroking a hand across his forehead. "Very good."

"Weft," Halsin says, voice hoarse. "Do not stop, please."

"Alright," Weft says, and picks back up the pace they had a moment ago. Their breathing is heavy. "Astarion, give him some water please."

Astarion takes the cup from the bedside table and pours water into Halsin's open mouth. Halsin swallows it gratefully and sighs. "More, Astarion."

"Water?"

"No, not water." He makes a soft noise when Weft hits him somewhere deep. "Put your hands on me again."

"Ha!" Astarion breathes, lust burning through him. He leans over Halsin and rests his lips on his forehead, twisting his body so Weft can see Halsin's face better this time. "Hand on my leg," he instructs, and Halsin touches his thigh again. He grasps Halsin's throat and yanks his hand up to his chin, making Halsin hum. "Wonderful, darling, you're wonderful. Nod if you're alright."

Halsin manages to nod around his hand, and Astarion presses harder into his throat. Halsin's mouth opens as though to breathe, but no breath comes. Astarion waits a beat and releases him, keeping his hand lightly in place. He traces Halsin's jawline with his thumb.

"Are you enjoying our dance with death, my sweet? I surely am." Halsin looks at him and nods, breathing too heavy to speak. "More?"

"More," he replies hoarsely.

Astarion places a kiss at Halsin's temple while he bears his hand down again. He watches Halsin closely, and Halsin watches him back. There's fear in his eyes, yes, but wonder, too. He's impressed. Did he think Astarion wouldn't go this far? He presses as hard as he dares, making Halsin squirm, and puts his mouth to Halsin's ear.

"I could take your life right now, darling, but I won't. You know I won't. You are always safe with me." He takes his hand off Halsin's neck and Halsin takes a deep, ragged breath. Astarion places a hand flat on his chest and feels Halsin's lungs fill with air and empty again, over and over.

He looks up at Weft, watching Halsin carefully. They catch Astarion's eye and he nods at them. Weft reaches for Halsin's cock and strokes it, making Halsin moan. He wraps an arm around Astarion and holds him close while he comes, spilling across his stomach. Weft grunts and with a few quick strokes they come too, then extract from Halsin and fall beside him.

"My big, beautiful sweetheart," they murmur at him, wrapping an arm around his head and kissing his cheek. "Are you quite alright?"

Halsin takes a breath in and out through his nose, nodding. Astarion offers him the water again and he drains the cup. "Thank you," he says hoarsely. "I am alright." Astarion gets off the bed to fetch more water, and returns to Weft tracing a gentle line under Halsin's jaw. Bruising has started to form, and Astarion somehow manages both guilt and pride.

"Was it everything you hoped for, darling?" Weft asks softly.

"Yes," he replies. He takes the cup from Astarion and drains it again. "Expectations were exceeded." He looks up at Astarion and his eyes are shining with admiration. "Come here, please."

Astarion lets Halsin pull him down and he lounges across his stomach. Weft drops their head so it nudges Astarion's and he nudges them back. Halsin watches them, smiling.

"Whatever sappy nonsense you're thinking, keep it to yourself," Astarion drawls. "That's my bedroom rule."

Halsin laughs heartily, or he tries, instead falling into a coughing fit. Weft smacks Astarion on the arm. "Look what you did!"

"I'm fine!" Halsin manages. "Astarion, come kiss me better."

“You like gifts, don't you, Astarion?”

“Oo, what have you gotten me this time?”

Weft hands him a long, flat, paper box, and he opens it eagerly. Inside, nestled in paper, are three articles of clothing, though, he thinks, one would hardly count as “dressed” if wearing them. A gauzy robe with velvet floral designs, a narrow corset in black and silver, and a spit of fabric he assumes is underwear, though it’s difficult to be sure.

“Oh, darling,” he says, “they’re gorgeous. How do you always know just the thing?”

Weft beams at him. “Are you going to try them on or what?”

“Trying them on, then or what.” He waggles his eyebrows at them as he hops to the next room, and they laugh.

The whole get-up fits him perfectly–of course. Weft knows his measurements as well as their own at this point. He looks down at himself, idly regretting his lack of reflection. He must look damn good. The panties have no seat at all, just three straps to hold the front in place, and the robe has a long slit up the back that ends above his tailbone. “How saucy,” he purrs to himself.

He returns to the boudoir, striking a pose against the doorway. “Well! It seems I’m not the only one who got a new outfit.”

Weft is also striking a pose, demurely holding their own ephemeral robe closed, entirely failing to conceal themself beneath it. “I wanted us to feel pretty all of a sudden, so I ordered these. That was four months ago, of course, but fortunately I”m still in a pretty mood. Do you like it?”

“Are you kidding? I feel like I’m floating.” He twirls over to them, enjoying the rise and fall of the delicate garment. “Like I’m the prettiest harlot at the orgy. And you! Why you're easily the second prettiest.”

Weft laughs. “I’m glad. And you’re having the effect on me I was hoping for.”

“Oh, that’s what I like to hear.” He slides a finger up the edge of his robe in the front, drawing it off his shoulder and just barely letting one nipple show. “Is this what you like, my sweet?”

Weft bites their lip, and reaches out to trace a line up his ear to its point and back to his cheek. He closes his eyes and leans into the touch. “You do look ravishing,” they murmur.

He opens his eyes and looks up at them through his eyelashes. “Then ravish me, darling.” Some emotion crosses Weft’s face and it gives him pause. “Is something the matter?”

“No, I...sorry, it’s stupid.”

“Tell me.”

“I was just thinking how…” they sigh, color rising in their cheeks. “How there was a time when this wouldn’t have been alright, when you didn’t want me to...look at you...the way I’m looking at you now.” He can tell there’s a hesitancy they still feel, a holdover from that time, now years past. He places his hand over theirs on his face. “Sorry. I’m just happy to see how far you've come.”

“Credit where it’s due, my darling. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

They smile. “Good for us.”

“Good for us! Now how about that ravishing?” He turns to show them the back of his underwear. “I assume that was what you had in mind when you bought me panties without an ass.”

“When I what? Oh no.” Weft is looking at him with a hand hiding their smile. “I’m so sorry, love, I think there's been a mixup.”

“What do you mean? You didn’t mean for me to have my whole backside hanging out?” He raises an eyebrow at them and smirks. “For easy access?”

“No, it’s for a tail!” They turn to show him theirs, and sure enough, the straps that he had found a little mysterious fit perfectly over their tail. “They must have taken my order wrong. Oh, your robe too! I’m sorry, darling, I’ll send them back and get you the right ones.”

“Excuse me! We will not be sending back a thing.... You are welcome to purchase me an additional set, however.” He reaches into their robe through the tail slit and pinches their ass cheek. They let out a yelp and slap at his hand, laughing. “Here I was, thinking you had an incredible sexy idea, and it was just a great sexy idea with an incredible accident.”

“You have a point.” Weft wraps their arms around his corseted waist and pulls their bodies together. Their cocks collide, nestled as they are in luxurious silk. He lets out a soft sound, and grinds his hips into theirs.

“Besides, darling,” he says, “I hope to leave these in a state that means they’re beyond sending back to the store.”

Weft kisses him. They draw their hands down his torso and cup his ass cheeks, extra perky as they are. He snakes his arms around their neck and jumps up. They catch him, like he knew they would, and carry him to their bed. 

Astarion falls on his back on the bedspread and they climb on top of him. He traces a hand around one of their breasts hanging over him, drinking in his partner’s beauty. They slide his robe off his shoulder and kiss the spot left bare, trailing down to his nipple. He hums at the flick of their tongue and bucks his hips up into them. He strains to reach behind them and unbuckle their underwear. They make a noise against his chest as he leverages his feet to scoot the panties off of them.

“Ready to go?” they ask, rubbing their erection against him.

“Gods, just flip me over already! Ah!” Weft does as he suggests and he finds himself facedown. They plant more soft kisses on his neck as they summon a bottle of oil to their hand. He shivers when their slick fingers enter him. They lay their cheek on his back while they finger him, their skin separated from his old scars by the thin layer of gauze. He still can’t feel, in the lines where he was once mutilated, but the treatments he’s been using have softened the skin, and the uncut places can feel Weft’s touch more easily.

Weft sighs against him. “I could finger you forever, you know.”

“Mn, darling,” he says, head swimming with pleasure, “I would hardly complain if you did.”

“I don’t have to worry about finishing too soon, and I can go anywhere on your body.” He feels them shifting, moving down, and the absence of their warmth strikes him. He rises to his elbows so he can turn and see them where they’ve settled, between his legs.

They draw their tongue across one of his cheeks, making him shiver, and the hand that isn’t inside him gently rolls his balls through the silk that cups them. He moans and drops his head, still keeping one eye on them over his arm. They’re looking at him with something like wonder in their eyes, then flash him an embarrassed smile. “You look so good, my love.”

His chest tightens, and he smiles at them. “Is that my best angle?” They laugh, and press a kiss between his cheeks, above their fingers. They press harder on his balls, making him gasp in pleasure. “Oh, Weft,” he moans, “don’t stop, darling.”

“Mhmn.” They keep him suspended like that, moaning, toes curling, chest aching for them. Then he speaks, with a hint of a whine.

“Weft. You could finger me forever. But…” He pauses. “I do love to be–ah–filled by you.”

They hiss the word “Fuck.” He manages a throaty laugh. “You always know just what to say.”

“Please my love,” he says softly, “let me take you to the hilt. Ah–” Their hands slip away from him and then their body is hovering over him again. He watches them apply oil to their cock, twitching in anticipation, before they guide it inside him. “Gods,” he blurts out, “my darling, yes.”

They fall around him, their thighs touching his thighs, their breasts dropping against his back, their hands, one gripping his hip and the other by his elbow on the bed. Weft pants into his hair and a wave of pleasure radiates down his body from the feel of their warm breath on his scalp. “Fuck,” they hiss again, “my beloved beloved.”

“Yes,” he breathes, “you’re perfect. Weft, please. Ah–” They press in and out of him, making small high cries into his hair with each plunge in. “Yes, that’s it, please–” He doesn’t even know what he’s begging for. What more could they possibly give? Weft is inside him, filling him, their body surrounding him, swallowing him up. He is whole, complete, with them inside him. Astarion digs his face into the bed.

Weft’s cock hits the spot deep inside him that makes him see stars and he gasps. “That’s it,” he cries desperately, “that’s it, you’re right there don’t stop!” He moans, his voice getting louder and higher, until he comes, filling the silk surrounding his cock.

“Oh my love, oh beloved.” Weft wraps their arm tight across his stomach and slams into him four more times, then finishes, with their face against his neck. He reaches an arm up past his head and grasps at them, getting a fistful of their robe. They cling to his corseted torso, holding him close. “Astarion. My love.”

“Weft, my sweet.” He turns beneath them and they pull out of him as he rolls. His hands find their face, his thumbs caressing their cheekbones. “My beauty.” He pulls their face down for a kiss and they lay their body on him, their weight pressing him to the bed. He’s indescribably happy.

Weft breaks the kiss and lifts their hips off of his. “You were right, my love.”

“Mm?”

They reach between their bodies and draw a finger under the top edge of his underwear, damp from his spending. “These are not going back to the store.”

Astarion finds Weft kneeling on the floor of their temporary home, Weft's family's country house, surrounded by haphazard piles of clothes. An uncharacteristic state. "What are you up to, darling?" he asks from the doorway. They look up at him in surprise.

"Going through the clothes I brought from home. Figuring out what I want to keep. Some of it doesn't really fit anymore, some of it is the sort of stuffy horseshit I wore while working. Some of it is stuff I wore when I went out partying." They gesture at the pile directly behind them, and Astarion spots some beautifully patterned fabrics.

"You have some lovely pieces here," he says, pushing things aside to crouch beside them.

"You're welcome to anything that fits."

"Hm." He picks through it, noting how little they care that he's ignoring their organization scheme. "Perhaps. Though I'm not interested in anything some stranger came onto."

They flinch. He may have gone too far. "So much of it just brings up bad memories. You know? And not just the party clothes. I think…I think I was having a really bad time, right before the tadpoling. Looking at all this just makes me think about how…worked up I got about the way people saw me. Um. What people thought of my body." They sigh and hold up a stately blue waistcoat. "It was my job to be likable. To make a good first impression, to be charming, to be everything to everybody. And to do all that, while looking like me."

"Darling," he says softly, and places a hand on their knee. "The way you look? It was only a help, surely."

"Oh, people were attracted to me, easy, but likability is an uphill climb when you're a tiefling. People see that first, and I had to work with it. And I always had to assume people knew about...." They gesture vaguely at their crotch. "I slept around enough it wasn't worth making a secret of it, so I went through life feeling like everyone saw me as a freak. It was a hurdle I had to overcome."

"Oh, nonsense, you love your body, you told me as much the first time I saw the whole thing."

"I love it, it looks like this because I want it to. It's everyone else who has mixed feelings."

"Well damn everyone else!" They blink at him in surprise, seeming to come out of a reverie. He puts a hand on their cheek. "You're not a freak. Well." He smirks. "You're a bit of a freak, but not for how you look." They stick their tongue out at him. "Your body is perfect, Weft. However you want to be, that's the way you should be."

They smile and knock their forehead into his. "I know. You're right. It's all just a bit much to face all at once. Remembering how things used to be just makes my skin crawl."

"Then forget the past." He presses on their knee and they turn toward him, away from the trunk of old clothes. He takes their hands in his. "You will never need to worry about a stranger's opinion of your body again, I swear it. With the usual caveats," he rolls his eyes and wriggles his head around, "unless I die tomorrow or get mind controlled again or you decide to leave me."

"Not if I can help it."

"No, and I pledge the same." He squeezes their hands. "Do you have any idea how insane you sound when you disparage your looks?"

They laugh. "I mean, I'm being realistic."

"You truly, literally are not."

"Come on."

"How can you be this in denial? Have you not looked in a mirror lately?"

"I have, that's why I'm feeling so wretched!"

"This room must have a curse on it, we should move to a different one." He stands and pulls them up with him, leaving the piles of clothes behind. They cross the hall into a matching bedroom, with only a bare mattress in the bedframe. He holds them still, a hand on each shoulder, and gives them a hard look. They smile sadly at him.

"Sorry, scenery change didn't do the trick." He clicks his tongue in frustration.

"My beloved. May I undress you?"

They hesitate. "You may."

"Are you sure?"

"I am. Sorry, I'm sure."

"I'll go first." They've both just been wearing different silk robes around the place, and he drops his to the floor and kicks it aside. He sees Weft's eyes rove his body and he thrills at it. He's so glad that he can be pleased by their attention again.

He reaches for their robe and they laugh. "Hold on, it's freezing in here." He turns and lights the fireplace with a spell. "Thank you. Alright, you may."

He steps close to them and draws a hand up the edge of their robe. Slowly, he slips their right shoulder bare and circles behind them. He presses his cheek to the wing-like ridges on their shoulder blade, and his hand continues around the collar of their robe. His other arm is wrapped around them, holding the robe in place on their chest. He places a series of kisses across their back, settling on their spine.

His free hand snakes into their robe in the front and he traces his fingertips across their right breast, making them shiver. "Do you know how remarkable you are, my love?" He squeezes, pressing his fingers into their soft flesh. They lean against him, the base of their tail on his pubic hair, and his cock twitches as it hardens. "There are so many people in this and every world, but not a single one is just like you."

He moves around them, letting their robe fall to the floor. "You, who took the body you had and made it the body you wanted." He takes a breast in each hand and draws his face between them, then back, with his tongue tracing a line that barely touches each nipple. His mouth travels to their sternum and he licks up the ridges of their chest, to the muscles leading to their neck, landing on his usual biting spot. He kisses softly at their never-quite-healed wounds. "Your marvelous, strong body, that's gotten you this far, and will get you further."

Their breathing gets heavy as he kneels down, his hands moving slowly over their stomach as he goes lower. He looks up at them from his position by their cock, and his hands trace over the bumps at their hips, the tattoos on their sides. He grips them tight. "Would you like me to show you how grateful I am to share your body?"

They take a shaky breath and thread their fingers into his hair. He leans into the touch, his eyes closing in pleasure. "Do you really want to, my darling? You aren't just doing it to make me feel better?"

He lets out a throaty laugh. "Do not ever doubt that I want one of us penetrating the other, dearest." He grins an impish grin at them and they laugh. "I'm not being metaphorical, Weft. I am truly grateful for your generosity, for all the sex certainly, but…your blood. The safety of your arms. A place beside you. You give me so much. I adore you, utterly." He sighs and leans against their thigh. "You should feel like the most beautiful person alive, because you are. I want to make you feel that way."

He feels a potent cocktail of love and lust rising in him, and he opens his mouth against their thigh, drawing his tongue across their skin. They let out a cry and press him closer. "Astarion, I want you to fuck me."

"Ah, gods, yes." He pulls them down to lay on the floor, guiding their legs around him. He rests their calves on his shoulders and reaches down to their entrance. His stomach flutters. How do they make him feel like every time is the first time? He teases at the entrance, and gets their tail curling around his ankle as a reward.

His eyes are locked on theirs, and they're panting, watching him. His chest feels like it may burst. He thrusts his cock into them and they both moan at once. Their hands move to their breasts, massaging them. The sight makes his head spin and he thrusts into them harder.

"Don't hold back," Weft cries. "I want to make you come."

"Weft," he whines, nothing else to say, just needing to say their name. They're moaning below him, rocking into his motions. He gets lost in the feeling of them around him, their soft backside landing against his hip bones and their legs so close to his face.

He comes into them with a shudder, and they gasp in pleasure when he does. They slip their legs off his shoulders and slide off his cock, then roll up to pull him into their arms. He melts into their embrace, buries his nose in their neck.

"I love you," he mumbles into them. "That's all I wanted to say. That's what I wanted you to know."

Though the rest of the party has gone up to bed, leaving Astarion and Weft alone in the private booth of the Elfsong, the tavern is still lively. The barmaid brings Weft another glass of wine, then pulls the curtain closed and leaves them be.

Astarion swings his legs up and onto Weft's lap, turning to face them on the bench. Weft puts an arm over his shoulder and slides their fingers into his hair.

"You really can't keep your hands off me, can you?" Weft teases.

"Would you want me to?"

"No," they say with a laugh. "On me is right where I like them. Are you ready to head upstairs?"

He taps at his chin, playing at consideration. "You know, my love, we don't have to go all the way upstairs to have some fun."

Weft raises their eyebrows at him. "Right here? Where anyone can hear us?"

"Not if we're quiet," he says, leaning his face toward theirs.

"When have I ever been–mm–" He kisses them, pulling them down so their arms support his weight. Without breaking the kiss, Weft reaches for the front of his breaches and undoes them, reaching inside for his half-hard cock. He hums into their mouth, opening wide to take in their tongue, then reaches for his breaches and wriggles out of them, tossing them to the floor below the table. Weft pulls him into their lap, muttering "Bare ass on the booth, don't fucking think so."

He digs his ass into their crotch and parts his legs, just a touch. He hopes that isn't too subtle. Weft's hand travels below his balls and rubs at the path to his hole, making him stifle a cry. "You tease," he whispers. "What did you trim your claws for if you aren't going to go inside me?"

"You really want me to finger you, right here, in the tavern?"

"I want you to do more than finger me, darling."

Weft lets out a "ha!" and kisses him again, tongue to tongue. They bring their first two fingers up to his mouth, and Astarion drops his jaw for them, sucks them deep, drags his wet tongue across them. Weft pinches their lips to hold back a sound, then swiftly brings their fingers back down.

"Both," he whispers, and Weft breathes hard out their nose and nods. They ease both fingers into him and he throws his head back, mouth open in a silent moan. Weft is looking at him and he nods, telling them to keep going. Their fingers go deep and he moves on them, eager for something deeper.

Astarion's ear twitches, and he lays flat on the bench, blocking his body with the table. Weft leans forward on their free arm as the barmaid opens the curtain, saying "Anything else, love? Where'd your friend go?"

"Having a piss," Weft says, voice hoarse. "Nothing else for now, Edna, thanks."

She leaves, but doesn't pull the curtain fully shut. From under the table, Astarion summons a mage hand to close it and hold it closed. He looks up at Weft, holding back a laugh. He must be a sight, splayed out on their lap, their fingers in his ass.

"Let's move on," he suggests.

"Let's," Weft agrees. They remove their fingers, and Astarion sits up. He crouches over them and unties their trousers, deliberately brushing the back of his hand against their erection. Weft huffs as they lift off the bench to pull their pants down to the floor.

"Now whose bare ass is on the bench?" Astarion murmurs into their ear.

"Shut the fuck up," Weft says with a laugh, and pulls him back down onto their lap. They both gasp on contact, the shaft of their dick flat against his balls. He rises again and lines them up with his asshole. A glass breaks in the bar, and the whole room cheers. Someone curses at someone else, and they can hear someone getting thrown out of the front door.

Astarion and Weft look at each other and laugh. He leans down and kisses them, and they adjust the tip of their cock against his hole. He drops his hips and takes them in.

They gasp together, and almost knock teeth in their haste to kiss and mute themselves. He rides them, rolling his hips. They're struggling to stay quiet, he can tell, and they drag their hands up his back under his shirt.

Weft rises from the bench, forcing him onto the table. They fuck him with a strained look on their face, biting their lip to keep silent. He splays back on the table, throwing his arm over his mouth to stifle his panting.

Weft comes, leaning forward to bite at his shirt, stuffing their mouth with it. They collapse onto him, and he wraps his hands around their head and neck.

"Wow. I can't believe you fucked me in the tavern."

"Shut up."

"Where anyone could find us! You were just that desperate for me, weren't you?"

"Gods, shut up!"

"You dirty bird. And you're going to leave such a mess for that poor barmaid."

"No, I'm going to clean it."